“My hate relationship with music,”

Is what I told my mom about back when I was 6 years old. She has always wanted me to be the excellent Asian. So, along with getting good grades, I was forced into piano lessons, concerts, festivals, middle school band, high school band, marching band, and even indoor drumline. Music was pretty much half of my entire life.

I hated it. The process of reading music, figuring out all the notes, dynamics, chords, and scales. I was pretty much learning another language. I hated the pressure of playing in front of large groups of people, the embarrassment of making the tiniest mistake because of how painfully obvious it would be. I practiced everyday in hopes of not humiliating myself during a concert, performance, or show. However, there were some aspects of music I did enjoy.

After playing music for a few years I began to grow comfortable with the art. I started to be able to read music in between the lines of notes and began to understand the expansive universe of each piece, much like analyzing the author's choices of a short story in an English class. Being able to play something so extensive especially in a group of people allowed me to form a very special connection with them. It brought me closer to many different kinds of people. I am not a very social or emotional person, so music was a way for me to bring out my restricted emotions. I started to see meaning in music and finally found the good in the bad.

This relationship continued throughout high school, joining multiple clubs and spending thousands of hours growing closer to the art. I now have a much different connection with music. I have a love-hate relationship with music.